


A Voice as Soft as Lighting

by bsandtheirfandoms



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Harpy Dipper Pines, I suck at tagging, I’ll add more tags as I go, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Oops?, Pirate Bill Cipher, Siren Dipper Pines, Slight out of character, Slow Build, Slow Burn, i suck at summaries too, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bsandtheirfandoms/pseuds/bsandtheirfandoms
Summary: I’ve basically read all the pirate au fics for Bill/Dipper so here’s my contribution! Idk how long it’s going to be not how often I’ll post so sorry about that. Bad summary go!Dipper Pines has lived his whole life shackled by the fact that he is the only wingless harpy in his tribe. Desperate to leave, but afraid of the consequences of running away, he allows himself to be stolen by the natorious pirate captain, William “Bill” Cipher, who’s fascinated by the mythical.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to start out with a neutral third person POV and then move into the MC third person POV later. It's only for the prologue, so it shouldn't really confuse anyone, but I just thought I'd let you know in case you went on to the next chapter thinking it would be written just as well as the first and in the same style. Don't get your hopes up. This prologue just somehow magyked itself into not being as crappy as I usually write. Delight in the 731 words below because this will probably be the only good conglomerate of words written by me that you will ever read. Enjoy!

Fat droplets of water fell from the heavens, splattering into the wide expanse of azure ocean, steadily moving southward. Eventually they found solid purchase, crashing into the pale expanse of sand before diving towards the giant tropical leaves of an island canopy. Though they were heavy droplets, few found their way to the jungle floor without first connecting to the surface of a waxy leaf or the extended branch of a tree, so most on the island were protected from the foreboding possibility of being drenched. Yet nothing but the flora stirred as the atmosphere charged with building pressure. All were tucked away in their warm, safe homes. All except one.

A blinding white streak illuminated a single figure, crouched on a branch on the edge of the island jungle. A young boy, it seemed, though none like most would normally know. His body was slightly underdeveloped and lanky like any post pubescent boy of the era, yet there were oddities to his appearance: skin as pale as the sea foam, stretched across fully exposed, languid and growing muscles and unnaturally thin appendages. Fluffy, brown locks shown with vibrance as they twisted and curled in every direction, ruffled by even the faintest breath of wind. Pools of rich cocoa flashed a bright red when the flashing energy of the sky caught them just right and were not framed by lashes but by long and delicate feathers. His nails, both on his toe and fingers, dug into the branch he was perched on: long and pointed into a razor sharp edge with a slight hook to anchor him against the whipping winds. Charcoal scales glinted in the light, speckling his feet and ankles and accenting his pale complexion. Yet the greatest oddity about the boy, the most striking, was the beautiful blue feathers, tipped with a gilded bronze, that grouped around his body: hugging his hips before trailing up his lower spine and then circling his shoulder blades and blanketing his shoulders. A few traveled up the back side of his neck before dissolving into a spattering around his cheekbones and curving up to his hairline, poking out from under his bangs and behind his ears like a decorative crown.

The boy tensed as another flash of lightning brightened the sky, followed by a roaring peal of thunder as the boy stood, body swaying with the turbulent wind before he lept off the branch. He seemed to descend as if he were carried by the wind, the air seeming to solidify slightly and wrap itself around him, guiding him down until he hit the sand. His first step vaulted him into a sprint as he made a mad dash for the sea, barely even hesitating before he plowed through the shallow water. Others of his kind, the ones not plagued with the strains of missing appendages wouldn't have even considered being out during the storm or wading through the sea in the first place, but as he was not shackled with such a burden he paid no mind to the lukewarm water or chilling rain as it seeped into his feathers the further he swam out.

He didn't stop his trek until he rose up onto a sandbar a good few meters away from the island beach that now lay behind him. Angry waves began to build and crash into him, causing him to stumble back a few times as he stood in the middle of the typhoon. Arms lifted at his side and head thrown back, he reveled in the pure energy of the storm. Cool rain mixed with hot tears as he sucked in a large breath, holding it until a streak of lightning filled the sky, and released a deafening scream of pure emotion alongside the overpowering rumble of thunder. Each time the sky burned white hot the boy would release a heart wrenching cry, seeming to grow weaker as he continued to convey his grief to the heavens, until finally the storm had passed, leaving the sky a soft tint of gold-pink as dawn crept along the horizon and the boy all but fell to his knees as tears continued to flow freely down his cheeks without the cover of rain to disguise them.

The boy's name was Dipper Pines, a prince of the harpies, and he was the only one in his tribe who bore no wings.


	2. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper get's a visitor or two after his little stormy adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not thrilled with this chapter but I just wanted to let you all know I'm not dead... yet...
> 
> Also, I'm really sorry about any oocness.

Loud banging outside his room jolted Dipper out of his dreams and into the unwelcome brightness of morning, eliciting a groan from his damaged throat. He rubbed his eyes blearily, squinting in the morning sun as he nestled into his bed of soft ﬁbers and down, thinking - hoping - he had imagined the knocks. He gave up such hope when three more reverberated through the walls with more force than the last few.

"Dipper," a haughty voice growled slowly from the entrance of his small flat, muﬄed only in volume by the buffer of solid wood, refusing to leave him to his suﬀering. "Dipper, I know you can hear me. If you don't get up, I'll destroy your door."

"Don' care," the brunette slurred, his voice gravelly and hoarse from yesterday's endeavor to destroy his voice box completely. He had failed, but just barely. His next words were muﬄed, resounding from underneath the many layers of his nest while he sulked at having his sleep interrupted. "S'not like ya'ven't broken it before."

The air stilled for a moment, as if holding its breath, before a resonating thud of splintering wood signaled that Dipper's uninvited guest had indeed broken into his house, yet again. Stomping feet and the clink of glass from his bead screen told him that the perpetrator was in his room and Dipper glanced up brieﬂy from where he'd buried himself, mischievous eyes crinkled with mirth. The puella stood before him with arms akimbo, a mighty terror of diamond eyes and violet feathers as she blew her corn silk hair out of her face.

"Morning, Paz," he cooed, sprawling in the afternoon sunlight streaming through his window like a leopard sunning on a branch, unruﬄed by her piercing gaze.

"Don't you _'morning, Paz'_ me," The blonde huﬀed as she took in the sight of him, buried under plant ﬁbers, pliable sticks, moss, and multi-coloured feathers like a stubborn ﬂedgling refusing to get up and face the day. "It's nearly midday and you're burrowed deeper into the conﬁnes of your nest than a newborn!"

Dipper pouted, his sulk increasing at the blonde's mature response, and tucked himself a little further into his makeshift cocoon, "I can do whatever I want today, and no one can stop me, not even you, Paciﬁca Northwest."  
"Why you little..." Paciﬁca muttered but smiled anyways at the puer's childish response. Dipper was hardly comfortable enough to let his guard down, so when he did, Pacifica couldn't help but find it endearing. This, however, was a matter of utmost importance and could not be stopped, not even by Dipper's pouting.

She let out an exaggerated sigh, turning away slowly as she threw her ace over her shoulder, "Well, I guess I can just go get your mother to wake you up in a couple of minutes. You know, like last time?" She could see the lump of nesting she assumed was Dipper stiﬀen in her peripheral vision and smiled triumphantly. "You remember, right? That morning - that evening actually - when she was furious at you for sleeping 'such a beautiful day', like today, away," Paciﬁca could hear the faint shift of bedding as she pressed on, "And she got so heated your entire room looked like a tornado had passed through it," she ﬁnished, mentally counting to three while examining her nails before Dipper ﬁnally stood beside her.

She bit her lip to keep from snorting at his haphazard appearance: hair sticking up in all directions, bits of moss and sticks clinging to his hair and feathers, while his sleep deprived eyes glaring holes through her. Dipper narrowed his eyes further at the gesture and growled ancient profanities as he stalked out of his room, not bothering to wait for her.

"What is so important that you have to bother me on my birthday?" He grumbled, stalking into his mirror room so he could preen up his appearance.

"Exactly that," Paciﬁca answered, stepping in after him. "This is your last time to celebrate. You have to go out with a bang before you get tied down."

"Not that it really matters, I've been tied down since birth," Dipper paused in his fussing when she smacked his hands away from his hair, ignoring his irritated huff as she began to pluck bedding from his soft curls and straighten out his feathers while he stared down his reﬂection. He looked like hell, and not just from the bedding stuck to him: his eyes were rimmed red and puﬀy, sheltered underneath his irritated eyes were identical, half-circle bruises, and his normally shining complexion was pasty. Even his feathers and poofy, chestnut hair seemed to have lost their normal vibrancy.

"That's not an argument and you know it," Paciﬁca declared before scoﬃng, obviously having studied his reﬂection as well. "Why do you bother going out every time there's a storm when all you end up doing is looking like hell the day after? Does it actually do any good for you, trying to fry your vocal cords?"

"Yes," Dipper smiled at her through their reﬂections, not really bothered by her trademark _"I-know-better-than-you-so-shut-up-and-listen"_ tone.

Harpies normally hated wasted effort, and Dipper's sporadic, stormy adventures definitely fell under "wasted effort", but then again, he was never exactly considered "normal". He reached a hand behind his side, to a starburst scar in the middle of his back, slightly hidden by the feathers covering his shoulder blades: the place where his wings should have been. Paciﬁca dropped her gaze with a scowl and went back to grooming his appearance as best she could. It was, obviously, a sensitive topic, him being born without wings. Most found it hard to comprehend how a magical being could be born with oddities not custom to their species: like when a mermaid was born “ugly” or a dragon couldn't breathe fire. They were abnormalities to most, normally destroyed before they could gain a conscious mind and "ruin" the blood lines. The entire ﬂock thought him a curse, and even then, that was the least of Dipper's problems.  
"Almost done," Paciﬁca announced, running her ﬁngers through his hair while humming an indecipherable tune softly. He could feel the slight chill of her magic weave its way down from his scalp, seeping into his skin and hair, rejuvenating him. He closed his eyes with a sigh, leaning into her comforting hands as she tousled his thick locks but pulled away when she'd ﬁnished. "There, all better."

He reappraised his reﬂection, he looked nothing but healthy and pristine, before turning to his friend and hugging her, "thanks, Paz."

"Don't mention it, Dip Dot," she crooned, returning his hug a little more ﬁercely than needed. "What d'ya say we go wreck some havoc?"

Dipper chuckled under his breath, releasing her from his arms as he matched her mischievous smirk, "Let's."

<<—>>

"Your aim is absolutely terrible!" Paciﬁca teased from her perch, launching a coloured bomb towards another one of the councilmen's homes. It passed through a front window with a loud pop followed by a string of curses and Paciﬁca's evil cackle.

"And your aim is too precise," Dipper muttered while shaking his head. He was bemused as to how his friend could be so beautiful on the outside yet so rotten on the inside. Then again, that was what made her so appealing as a fellow mischief maker. He started at the bright orb clutched in his hand before tucking it back into his satchel with a sigh. "Hey, let's call it a day. I don't fancy being here when the sentinels are called for."

"Yeah, me either," the blonde agreed, throwing one last coloured explosive before she took a running jump from her branch into the air, strong wings carrying her towards his tree, calling back over her shoulder, "Let's hit the beach then, before sunset!"

"Hey, that's cheating!" Dipper shouted back, standing confidently on his own branch before chasing after her. He dodged around the lush foliage of the canopy, hopping his way from one branch to another while glancing up every few seconds to make sure Paciﬁca was still partially in front of him. She might have been mischievous, and a cheater, but she was still kind enough to pause every now and again to make sure he hadn't dropped to the forest floor. Eventually he caught up to her, after becoming ensnared in a grouping of vines, and fumed silently while she snorted and plucked leaves and sticks out of his hair yet again.

"You really have a nest for hair, don't you?" She snickered, unperturbed when Dipper shot her a glare.

"It's better than having a cheater as a friend," he bit back, tensing when Pacifica stilled. He shrieked when her nails dug into his sides, tears filling his eyes as she mercilessly tore into him.

"Who's a cheating friend?! I distinctly remember you cheating in our race in the caves because you could swim, and I couldn't you hypocrite!" She shrieked, following him down to the floor when he collapsed in a fit of hysteric giggles, relentless in her attack.

"Aaaaah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I take it back! You're the best, Paz, stop tickling meeee!" Dipper wheezed, thrashing a little bit more before lunging and returning the favor, nails raking over her scaled feet. They tussled around a bit more, squawking and giggling on the floor like a pair of wild pups before the clearing of a throat froze them mid roll.

"Good to see you're finally up and about, Dipper." A feminine voice announced.

Both Dipper and Pacifica looked up to find a woman with long chestnut waves and honeyed eyes staring down at them with mirth.

"Mom!" Dipper exclaimed, stunned for a moment before Pacifica took advantage of his stupor and recommenced their tickle fight. " _Cheater!_ Mom, heeeeelp!"

His mother laughed but shrugged, watching as her two charges rolled around on the floor.

"Betrayal! That is a betrayal, Mother!"

"Don't blame your mom for distracting you in front of the enemy!" Pacifica crowed, eventually letting up when Dipper's eyes began to fill with tears.

"So,” his mother asked when their breathing began to even out. “Are you two planning on showing up to the celebration at all tonight?"

"Oh..." Pacifica exhaled, surprise written all over her face. "I forgot all about that."

"I did too until you reminded me," Dipper groaned, dropping his head to the floor with a soft thunk.

"You're going to have to get over your dislike for public attention." His mother sighed, crossing her arms. "You're going to lead these people one day."

Dipper gave a look that made his mother's lips turn down in disapproval. "It's probably not on the top of your to-do list for your coming of age, but at least attend for the opening ceremony. This celebration is for you after all, and the seven tribes are all attending to at least get a glimpse of the elusive prince."

"Gawk at is more like it," Dipper huffed under his breath, wincing as his mother's glower deepend. "Alright, we'll go, if only for the opening ceremony."

Dipper could see Pacifica's nose scrunch in his peripheral, but she said nothing of opposition on how she was included in attending, so he made note to spoil her rotten the day after for putting up with the ridiculous politics that Dipper's life revolved around.

"That's all I ask for," she acknowledged, pausing as she turned to go. "Oh, before I forget, I've already laid out your outfit for tonight. I'd prefer it if you didn't show up in nothing but your tattered loincloth."  
"The ceremonial clothes aren't exactly any more concealing than my everyday wear, Mother."

"Dipper, please," His mother sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking ten times older than she should have. Dipper felt guilty for giving her grief but bit his lip to keep his apology from spilling out. His mother would never admit to being haggard. "I know you don't understand, I didn't either when I was your age: just please, wear them."

"... Fine."

"Thank you. I'll see you both later." 

With the conversation obviously closed, she was gone with a toss of her flowing hair and a flap of her cerulean wings.

They were silent for a moment, Pacifica giving Dipper the room he needed to stew before she eventually broke the silence.

"You know she's only trying to make it easier for you." She murmured, a soft trill building in her throat to put him at ease.

Dipper sighed, echoing her trill to show his gratitude as he slumped into her arms. “I know… I couldn’t care any less what the seven tribes thought of me, but her… it’s harder on her than it is me. She grew up with the love of dozens of people only for it to be ripped away from her from one insignificant thing. It’s just...” Dipper huffed, pausing. Pacifica entwined her fingers around his, running her free hand through the feathers along his crown encouragingly, waiting for him to find the words to continue. “She never lets herself show it: not to the tribe, not to my uncle, and certainly not to me. I wish she would at least show me, so she didn’t have to shoulder it all on her own.”

“She just wants you to think that she’s strong,” Pacifica murmured. “That she can handle it. She wants you - above your uncle, above the seven tribes - to believe that no matter what, she’s strong enough to catch you when you fall.”

“I guess..” Dipper sighed, furrowing his eyebrows. He could see the logic in her statement, but he didn’t like it all the same.

After a few more moments of silence, Pacifica stood, tugging on his hair softly as he leaned on her leg to try and lighten his mood. “Come on, let’s go get this horrid celebration over with.”

“Okay,” He whispered, voice so quiet yet so saturated with feeling that Pacifica could already feel her heart break at the idea of bringing him anywhere near his coming of age celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puella = a made up word that, for my specific needs, means female harpy
> 
> Puer = same as puella but for dudes


End file.
